Last Friday night I had the delightful experience of attending the Kennedy
Center performance of Rossini's *Barber of Seville*.

Beaumarchais had written *The Barber of Seville* and *The Marriage of
Figaro* (and a third play *La Mere Coupable, completing a "Figaro trilogy"
although I only know about the third play because it's dutifully mentioned
when the source of the other two operas is discussed) apparently as a
veiled protest against the exploitation of the common folk by the
aristocracy.

Mozart chose only the middle play from which to make an opera *Le Nozze
di Figaro* (which, were it not for *Don Giovanni* would probably be my
favorite Mozart opera), possibly because Paisiello had already written an
opera based upon *The Barber*, possibly also because the second story can
stand by itself and Mozart preferred it to the others for an opera setting.
(While some of the social protest may have lingered in the Mozart work, it
seems to concern itself mostly w/ the more bitter than sweet story of a
wife sensing that her husband is tiring a bit of his marriage and coveting
the young bride of his servant.)

Thus, when Rossini wrote *The Barber of Seville*, it was Paisiello's opera,
rather than Mozart's w/ which he took pains to avoid comparison.  Today, I
daresay, the number of people familiar w/ Paisiello's *Barber* (of which
I'm not one) is substantially less than the number of people familiar w/
Mozart's *Figaro*, from which Rossini's opera is IMO so different that I'd
never think of comparing them.

The conductor was Manuel Valdivieso.  Almaviva (the count) was sung by
Joseph Calleja; Figaro, by Alfredo Daza; Rosina, by Angela Turner Wilson;
Dr.  Bartolo, by William Parcher; Dr.  Bartolo, by William Parcher, Don
Basilio, by Rosendo Flores; Berta, by Laura Zuiderveen; and Ambrogio, who
in this production sang not a word (although Kobbe lists him in the cast as
a bass) was mimed by Jacob Harris.

Unlike Mozart's opera (or what I understand was a theme of Beaumarhais'
plays) *The Barber* as presented on Friday, did not purport to convey any
"message" (whether of the dignity of the common man or of the folly of
midlife crisis) other than to amuse us w/ comedy seasoned w/ slapstick and
I believe a good time was had by all.  If there was some class conflict to
be highlighted in the count's pursuit, w/ perfectly honorable intentions,
of Rosina I missed it.

The mood was appropriately set in front of the stage curtain before
the start of the opera:  a puppet theater hanging a-kilter, some dangling
marionettes, and chandeliers lowered to floor level.  During the overture,
liveried footmen lit the chandeliers, which were then hoisted, the curtain
rose, bearing the puppet stage and marionettes w/ it, never to be seen
again, and the action in front of Dr.  Bartolo's house in Seville began.
My only complaint was that Figaro's famous "Largo al factotum" patter aria
was to a large extent drowned out by the orchestra..  This was made up for
in later patter routines.  The singers acted their parts convincingly w/
special recognition probably going to Parcher, singing Bartolo, who, while
old, is no fool, but in the end, not quite clever enough.  Flores, as
Basilio got good mileage out of the "Calumnia" aria.  (I once heard on the
BBC's "My Music" that Chaliapin was able to sneak an encore of this aria
past the rules against encores at La Scala, by following it in spoken
Italian, that he had learned for the purpose, with the announcement "I
don't think you've understood me fully, so I shall explain it to you
again".) The retainer, Ambrogio played by Jacob Harris, whom I remember
from the same role when I attended this opera five or six years ago, was
almost Chaplinesque in his attempts to deliver a cup of coffee to his
employer, always missing him, falling out of character in the unbelievable
tour de force constituting the ensemble ending the first act, when for a
few moments he smilingly joins the other stage forces as they dance around
the stage (don't ask why they dance!), and suddenly turning wistful in the
next act when Berta, Rosina's governess, sort of thinking out loud, bemoans
the hopelessness of her feelings for an unnamed man (Bartolo?) which
Ambrogio seems to believe are for him.

It will be especially interesting, now to attend *The Marriage of Figaro*,
which the Washington Opera will be presenting later in the spring.

Walter Meyer